Tables Turn: Part III
by HuntressDaugher
Summary: The finale of Tables Turn by the Santa Fe Dreamers' semifinals submission. In the aftermath of the Rally, Silas reaches his last straw, Mabel meets someone special, and Willie finds himself at odds with his hero.


**This is the final part of the Santa Fe Dreamer's semifinals submission (part three). For any newcomers, please go check out Mtbookworm's first part and Connie rose's second part before you read this. Let me just say, it's been a real slice being a part of the competition, and I have loved my team.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **Word Count: 3056**

Silas ran a hand through his hair, disliking its dirty feel and noting that it took too long to get his fingers through it. Hattie would have to stitch his pants, as the knee had been ripped out of the left side, and a pang of guilt rushed through him for giving his sister more sewing.

He couldn't even remember _how_ he'd torn his pants. One moment, he'd been shoving a stunned Mabel and Willie out the door, and everyone had been yelling to get Jack out of there. Naturally he'd tried to get Jack into the same alley, but somehow...that hadn't happened. There had been a big Queens boy next to him, and a cop coming at them from the front, and Jack had been swinging. That was all he remembered before waking up to a disheveled Snoddy in a cell.

Upon remembering Jack, he groaned and glanced up towards the hazy sky. "What a mess," he muttered to himself.

Trudging up the apartment stairs, he opened the door to find something blond hurling at him, and he was bombarded with weight, first around his shoulders, then his knees.

"Oh, goodness," Hattie sighed, for once not carefree and whimsy. She held him at arm's length with a dramatic huff. "I could kill you about now."

Silas only had time to pry Viola from his legs before his mother was on him. "Silas," she said in her brogue. "This is not like you. When Mabel and Willie came, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. You-"

"Ma, I'm fine. Promise." He ruffled Theodore's hair, kissed his mother, and hoisted Estella onto his hip, trying not to grimace at her slobbery hand. "But Mabel and Willie, they were ok?"

"We're fine too," chirped a voice from behind all of the Begbies. The sea parted, and there sat Mabel and Willie at the kitchen table, one grinning broadly, the other looking pale and tired.

"No worse for the wear," Mabel agreed, and stood up. The smile she'd tried to offer faded. "Your family is very kind for letting us stay. Now, you have to tell us what happened."

Mentally preparing himself, Silas took a deep breath. "Ira, why don't you take Willie to see those bottles of yours."

Ira's face lit up at the possibility of showcasing his model ships, and he grabbed Willie before the younger boy could protest.

Jerking his head, both Mabel and Hattie followed Silas onto the fire escape. He'd no sooner turned around than he found his sister with her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"It's a mess," Silas said, shaking his head. "They took all of us to court and fined every single one of us five dollars, which Denton paid."

The girls' mouths dropped open, and Mabel mouthed, "Five dollars?"

"That's not all. Jack was the only one who didn't get fined because he is a criminal who has been lying to us all. Turns out his name is Francis Sullivan, his ma is dead, and his da is in jail. He got four years in the Refuge." Hattie cursed, and Mabel shot her a look. "The best part-Denton is now a war correspondent."

Neither girl spoke at first. From the way her lip quivered ever so slightly, it seemed that Mabel had something she wanted to say but wouldn't. Hattie had no problem with it. "What will they do now? What will you do, Silas?"

Silas threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "I have no idea. Without Jack, there's no leader, and without Denton, we've got no way to spread the word. We've basically just been going without pay. The strike is probably just going to fizzle out."

"It can't," Mabel interjected. Silas met her eyes, and he knew she was thinking of Willie. There was a silent agreement between them that they would not tell him about Jack.

Hattie only pressed her brother. "Silas, I love you, but what are you going to do?"

He shook his head again and brushed off his sister's hand from where she had lain it on his shoulder. "I can't let you guys down."

* * *

When Mabel saw Silas from her position outside the distribution gates, she smiled good morning and waved. He seemed distracted, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and it took him a moment to return the gesture. Willie was so engrossed in his game of marbles that he didn't notice the newcomer.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

Silas let out a puff of air. He didn't want to tell her that he'd let Hattie walk Willie to the distribution center because he'd decided to wander by the nearest factory. He hadn't tried to get in, but he'd gazed up at it and wondered if he'd really like to spend his days cooped up inside there. He also didn't tell her that Jack had refused to be broken out of the Refuge the night before. Instead, he just said, "I was taking a walk. Your hair looks nice, by the way."

Mabel blushed and fingered her hair, which was piled on the base of her neck. He was glad to see her trying. Maybe it would do her good to spend more time with his sister, so poised and sure of herself. "Thanks. You missed Racetrack's defeat in the last round of marbles. He-" She stopped suddenly and raised her hand to shade her eyes. "Silas, I thought you said Jack was in the Refuge."

"He is," he answered, feeling the urge to tell her the truth, and followed her gaze down the street. "But apparently he's out."

"Looks awful spiffy to be in the Refuge." She swallowed hard.

Suddenly it seemed as though they weren't the only ones to notice Jack, as everyone quieted down and turned to look at their once leader. The same emotions-betrayal, anger, hurt, disgust-played on their faces in the same way that Silas imagined was on his own.

"Just tell me I'm just seeing things," they all heard from the King. Mush made his way forward indignantly, only to be thrown back by the cops.

There was a tug on his pants, which he thought about ignoring, but when he heard his name spoken urgently, he listened. "Silas, what's going on? I can't see, I can't see!"

Unconsciously, the older boy tilted back Willie's bowler hat without even glancing down. "Nothing yet," he replied, but Mabel ruined it.

"He's scabbing." It was nothing more than a disbelieving whisper.

Willie hurriedly glanced between the two. "Who's scabbing? Let me see!"

Silas shook his head, knowing the tragedy it would bring, but it only furthered to agitate the younger boy. "Silas!" he squealed. When that got him nowhere, he began to try to weasel his way to the front.

Jack refused to make eye contact, and Silas was glad he did.

* * *

Not a soul was in the Lodging House.

Perhaps it was because the place reeked of Jack, from his bunk and few belongings to the where he sat at poker night. Even Kloppman was missing.

Silas had no idea where they were, but he was thankful they were gone. True, it would look suspicious if they came back to find him with Mabel and a bottle, but he didn't care.

"New York is full of them," Silas continued, thinking about all the people sweating in the streets. "Just on our way here, I swear I counted at least a dozen. Did we really think we could accomplish anything? This is bigger than us." Mabel didn't answer.

Carefully pouring it into a glass, he dumped the scotch down his throat. For cheap alcohol, it was smooth, and he hardly felt the burn. It wasn't the first time he'd ever drank, he'd admit. But only if someone asked.

"Want some," he offered, knowing it was only polite.

The question served to make Mabel untangle her hand from her hair, which she had pulled down by now, and look at him blankly. He could tell she was surprisingly debating on whether or not to do it, and his eyebrows raised when she nodded. He poured her a glass anyways.

"I didn't figure you'd be a drinker."

"Thomas always said it was un-ladylike. But it seems like now is as good a time as ever to try."

Her face pinched tightly as the liquid slid down her throat. "Ew."

"Takes some getting used to."

She held out her empty glass for more, and he refilled it. They were quiet for a moment. "I'm going to do it."

Her head shot up. "You are?"

"I have to. The strike is over, I'm seventeen, and I have to help my family. I can't keep playing around anymore. You heard what Jack said. It's time to start thinking about what's best for me." He bit his lip. "I think you should too. You want to model, so go for it. If anything, talk to Medda. Surely she could help.

He could tell she was shocked, by the way she studied him through half-squinted eyes, biting her lip, trying to discern the credibility of what he was saying.

And the door burst wide open.

In like a hurricane came Cap't, hand on the doorknob and tears streaming down his dirty face. He stood there in the doorway and looked at them. "Why d-did he do it? Why w-would he do it? Doesn't he c-care about us?

Then his eyes landed on the bottle of scotch, and he froze. Both Silas and Mabel glanced from the corners of their eyes at it. They froze. They knew about his family.

"What's that?"

Mabel swallowed hard. "Willie, we we're just…"

The younger boy covered his face with his hands and melted onto the floor before he shot back up and outside, leaving the door wide open.

Silas cursed and made after him, but he was gone. When he looked back at Mabel, she was opening her eyes and reaching for the bottle.

* * *

They'd finished the bottle, though it had only been a quarter-full.

"Having a party?" came a voice from behind them. He knew who it was from his trips to Sheepshead with Racetrack. There was that signature smirk and the quick eyes. "Looks like we missed it, Mouth."

David dropped himself into the chair across from Mabel, and Spot slid in next to him. Silas shook the empty bottle. "If we'd known you were coming, we would have saved you some."

"If this strike's been good for anything, it's been drinking and trips to Long Island," Spot agreed. Hand rubbing her temple, Mabel fidgeted nervously.

"I think I've eaten at Tibby's and seen more baseball games in the past week than I have all year." Silas laughed darkly. "I don't know how rich people do it."

"They do it because they have nothing else to do," David sighed. "We do it all."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when your city is run on labor. And there's nothing we can do about that." Silas wished there was more scotch.

* * *

"Read this."

Silas stepped back in surprise as David shoved the paper into his hands. "What is it?"

"Between what you said and what Denton said got me thinking. The city runs on labor. If we want to make a difference, it can't just be us. We have to get everyone to work together."

As Silas scanned the contents, his smile grew. David was onto something. "Grab everyone you can find and help us hand them out.

* * *

"You _really_ think this will work?"

Silas closed his eyes to gather his patience. He couldn't help the corners of his lips twitching. "I told you. I don't know for sure if it'll work, but I think it's a good shot, and we have to try something. Now turn around and watch where you're going."

He lifted the boy's hat off of his eyes.

Silas understood his wariness. He'd been betrayed by his hero, and his surrogate siblings had been caught doing something despicable in his eyes. Honestly, he was surprised that he and Mabel had won his forgiveness so quickly.

Next to him, Mabel, grinning, shifted her giant stack of papers in her arms. "I can't believe they thought of this."

Before the city was awake, the three of them posted their banners on every corner and slid them under every door. They handed them to anyone who would stop for a moment, and Willie even handed his to those who wouldn't. They ran through the streets, even Silas, laughing with relief and happiness at the turn of events. And when they had given out all their copies, Silas hoisted Willie onto his shoulders without a complaint, and they scampered back to the distribution center.

* * *

Silas was sitting on the curb when it sounded.

Across the way, Jack was growing concerned, and it was rubbing off onto the others. Or perhaps they were rubbing off on him. Either way, their distress was permeating, and it was distressing him to watch them.

And then they heard it, a muted murmur from somewhere far down the street. One by one they turned their attention to it, and little by little they heard it grow. It was a faint buzz, then louder. Then came the red boys on bikes, and the sound hit them like a wall.

Behind the messengers came a ragtag army of children, even a few adults, some with shoes, most with stains, all carrying their banner.

Somehow he heard Mabel laugh and clap her hands together, and Willie danced circles around her, probably not able to see with his eyes covered by his hat. She allowed him to take her hands and spin her too. And somehow Silas couldn't help but laugh at them.

He ran to Wille and scooped him up, adjusting his hat in one quick move, and then tugged Mabel through the crowd, just in time to see Jack and David disappear into Pulitzer's office.

The whole protest continued to cheer, but the nervousness of the outcome was obvious. Willie tapped on his head; he ignored it.

Mabel burst into laughter when Pulitzer appeared, yelling "Go home!" in time with their chants, and momentarily the gates opened for Jack and David.

"We beat 'em!"

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Mabel screamed next to him, and Willie followed her suit from the top of his head. Even Silas cheered. People were slapping his back and screaming and crying, and what else he didn' even know. He was in the middle of having Racetrack yell in his face and Spot clapping him when the voices stopped as soon as they'd started.

Boys he'd never met before trickled out of the carriage. He watched closely, trying to make sure he didn't know any of them, when Mabel gasped. He turned to see her dash away. "Thomas!"

She grappled onto one of them, a tall, lanky boy with dark hair and freckles, and he buried his face in her hair, obviously smiling. Racetrack pointed. "Hey, that's Hardhead! That's ol' Hardhead Evans!"

Silas gave a small, warm smile at the siblings. Everyone knew Mabel loved her brother, just as everyone knew Silas loved Hattie. For the briefest second, he imagined Hattie being gone, and even the thought of it made him sick. Hopefully Thomas would be good for her. He watched Mabel and Thomas laugh at each other, trying to talk at once, not noticing anything else around them until the final straggler emerged from the carriage.

"Silas, it's Crutchie," Willie yelled. He pounded on Silas' head gleefully. "It's Crutchie, and he's ok!"

Silas was making his way over to him so that Willie could say hello when Crutchie pointed behind him. "Willie, that's the governor. Why is the governor here?"

"He's giving Jack a ride," David told them, hearing Silas' question. He smiled, almost sadly. "He's going to Santa Fe."

Willie squirmed less and less on top of Silas' head the further away Jack got. When he was out of sight, Silas put him down to find a very somber child. He stooped down to Willie's level. "Hey, are you alright?"

His only response was a silent nod. Knowing he wouldn't get anything else out of him, Silas pressed his lips together tightly and stood back up, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. It was hard for himself to believe that Jack had left, and he couldn't imagine how it was for Willie.

From somewhere in the crowd, he could vaguely hear his name being called, and he towed Willie with him towards the sound, finding Mabel in the clamour.

"Silas, this is my brother, Thomas. Thom, this is my friend Silas. He's a newsie too."

Her brother had a big smile and a firm grip. "It's nice to meet ya, Silas. Hear you're called Smiley."

"He's a barrel of laughs," Mabel teased, grinning at Silas. "And this is Willie."

"How ya doin', Capt'n?" Even this didn't crack Willie's shell. After a moment, Thomas retracted his hand and tried to act like Willie hadn't ignored it. "Man, this is something, I'll tell ya."

* * *

"What do you think? Do you have one last sell in you," Mabel asked as they made their way to the distribution center and saw the line.

"I think I can manage one more." Silas offered a rare grin. Willie said nothing about it being his last time, and Silas put his hand on the child's shoulder.

They settled in for the wait, only to hear, "He's back!"

Every single head turned to where Jack was returning with the governor. Willie grabbed a hold of Silas' pants, screeching, "It's Jack!"

Silas allowed him to run to their leader while he and Mabel took advantage of the shortened line. Once retrieving their papers, they, along with Thomas, edged their way to the gates, just in time to see someone different get in the carriage.

"Spot, where are you going," Silas actually laughed, watching as the Brooklynite reclined smugly in the plush carriage.

"Where do you think, Smiley? Home, of course! Back to Brooklyn." Spot waved to them, then his many admirers, who had moved away from Jack.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked his sister. She smiled broadly.

"To sell, of course!"

"Just as soon as I find the Capt'n," Silas added, already searching for the bowler hat.


End file.
